Flickers of the Future
by Stargone
Summary: Three kits are about to be made apprentices: Flickerkit, Hawkkit, and Creekkit. And there's something about Flickerpaw, something very...special. Something the Clans might call the power the stars. But sometimes what most think of as a gift is really a curse.
1. The Past

As the three tiny kits slipped out into the world, Ashflower breathed her last.

The wail of a grieving mate tore through the night. Several cats who'd been sleeping peacefully were jolted out of their dreams unceremoniously. The leader herself awoke and hurried out of her den.

In the nursery, Smallfeather was crouching next to Ashflower's unmoving body, furiously licking life into her kits. They began to squirm and mewl, their noises mixing with their father's pain-filled yowls.

"Foxberry!" Smallfeather said.

Foxberry fell silent, his eyes locked on the young medicine cat, looking hopeful.

"Can you help me carry the kits to the warriors den?"

Foxberry's eyes dulled. He turned away. "You let her die. You're a terrible medicine cat."

Smallfeather tried ignore the cold, slippery guilt in his belly. "Foxberry, please!" The kits were wailing, nuzzling into their mother's cold fur, searching for milk and warmth. He swept his fluffy white tail around them, pulling them toward him.

Specklestar padded into the nursery. "Smallfeather? Foxberry? Ashflower?"

Smallfeather spoke quickly. "Ashflower's dead. I need to get these kits to the warriors' den."

Specklestar didn't hesitate. She bent down, gripped one of the kits by the scruff, and began padding toward the warriors' den. Smallfeather grabbed another, and Foxberry reluctantly did the same. Smallfeather ran to the warriors' den, the kit swinging from his jaws.

He bounded into the den just a tail-length behind Specklestar. Most of the warriors were awake and watching in confusion. He set down the kit and meowed, "Jaggedfern?"

A pale gray she-cat padded forward. "Smallfeather." Her face was a mask as she eyed the kits. "Don't ask me to take care of them."

"Please, Jaggedfern, you have to. I know you still have milk. There are no other queens in the nursery."

Her face darkened, but she didn't say a word.

"Please," he begged. "They'll die without you."

The kits squealed. Jaggedfern still didn't say anything, but her face softened slightly. She bent down and began to lick the kit with firm, solid strokes of her tongue. She then curled her body around the three kits. They all started suckling at once, and not another sound came from their tiny mouths.

Smallfeather let out a relived purr. "They need names," he said after a moment.

"Foxberry should do it," said Jaggedfern.

They looked at him, but he hissed. "I won't name them. They killed my Ashflower. I will have nothing to do with them."

The russet-colored tom fled the den.

Smallfeather and Specklestar shared a look. Grief could do terrible things to a cat.

Jaggedfern lashed her tail. "How dare he! They're just kits! It's not their fault." She glanced down at them protectively.

Smallfeather suppressed a sad smile. She would make a good mother to them. If only Ashflower hadn't died. "Will you name them?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. "I never did get to name my own kits." There was sorrow and longing in her words, but also joy. She opened her eyes again and gazed at the suckling kits. She touched her tail tip to one, a creamy tom with brown paws. "Creekkit." She placed her tail tip on the second kit's head. This was light brown she-cat with dark reddish stripes and a white chest. Jaggedfern paused, her eyes narrowed in thought.

"How about Hawkkit?" Specklestar suggested.

Jaggedfern smiled and nodded. Then she looked up at Smallfeather as she touched the last kit, a golden-orange tabby. "You name this one."

"Me?" Smallfeather hesitated, uncertain. "Hmm…" He looked at the small she-cat. She let out a quiet squeak.

"Flickerkit," he whispered. Then he repeated it, louder. "Flickerkit."

Jaggedfern nodded. "I like it." She stroked the three kits' back with her tail. "There, there," she whispered to them. "You're safe now, little ones. You're safe with me."

But as Smallfeather stared down at the three kits, he felt certain they weren't as safe as they seemed…


	2. The Beginning of Now

It was the morning of the apprentice ceremony. Jaggedfern was off hunting, but she'd promised to be back in time. For now, Rainfall was watching the three kits. Not his favorite pastime.

"Don't move an inch, you three! Jaggedfern will have my pelt if you get dirty before your ceremony," he meowed.

Creekkit grinned mischievously and scooped up a pawful of dirt, rubbing it over his cream-colored fur.

"Creekkit, stop that!" Hawkkit scolded. "Do you really _want_ to be dirty for your ceremony?"

He threw some dirt at her. She shrieked and dodged. "Creekkit!"

Creekkit scowled at her. "She-cats! Always going on about the state of their fur," he grumbled.

"Toms!" Hawkkit yowled, "always being so _annoying!"_ She carefully scooped up some dirt and threw it at her brother. He yowled gleefully, ducking.

Flickerkit purred softly as she watched her siblings antics' with a smile. Sometimes she felt as though she were years older than them. She sniffled. Her nose was running again, and she felt a bit light-headed. She hoped she wasn't getting another fever—not now, on the day of her ceremony…

"Stop it, you two!" Rainfall pushed Hawkkit and Creekkit apart with his paws.

Just then, Jaggedfern bounded into camp from her hunt with Snowcloud and headed their way.

Rainfall gulped. Jaggedfern gave the evil eye as she noticed the two filthy kits.

"Creekkit, Hawkkit," she meowed sharply as she bounded over, "what are you _doing?"_

Hawkkit quickly shook the dirt from her claws, giving her paw a hurried lick. She sat down and wrapped her tail neatly around her paws. "Nothing," she promised, smiling sweetly. The effect was ruined by the filth caught in her fur, making her look like a fluffy ball of dirt.

Jaggedfern let out a long, huffy sigh. Shooting Rainfall a scorching look, she hooked her tail around all three kits, bringing them closer to her. Flickerkit sat up straighter, sniffling a bit. She wiped her nose with her tail quickly and hoped Jaggedfern hadn't noticed.

She hadn't. She was far too busy cleaning Creekkit and Hawkkit. She ran her tongue roughly over their fur, struggling to clear away all the grime. Hawkkit scowled moodily, and Creekkit squirmed and whined at Jaggedfern. No one was looking at Flickerkit. She was the good kit, the one who never got into trouble.

But she was also the sickly kit. And after Jaggedfern finished cleaning up the other two kits, she turned to Flickerkit.

"Flickerkit, are you okay?" Jaggedfern laid her tail against the small kit's forhead. "You feel warm. I'm going to go fetch Smallfeather. You stay right here. Don't move a mouselength."

Flickerkit felt dread pool in her stomach. "But, Jaggedfern," she tried to protest. Jaggedfern gave her a sharp look, one that clearly said, _no arguments._ Flickerkit's shoulders dropped. There was no arguing with Jaggedfern. She was far too stern and stubborn. This was it, then. Flickerkit would be set back a moon. Hawkkit and Creekkit would definitely become warriors without her.

"It's okay, Flickerkit," mewed Hawkkit, sensing her sister's disappointment. "We'll—"

But just then, a voice rang across the clearing. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a clan meeting!"

The clan began to group together beneath the Highrock. Rainfall nudged the kits forward, and Flickerkit muffled a sneeze, quickly bounding after her brother and sister. She looked up at Specklestar, silently willing the leader to make her an apprentice _right now._ Maybe Jaggedfern wouldn't be able to stop it if—

And there was Jaggedfern, Smallfeather right behind her as they shouldered through the crowd.

"Flickerkit," Smallfeather meowed warmly. She'd always liked him, with his gentle, kind way of speaking and his bright eyes. But now his shining blue eyes and friendly face were an unwelcome sight. Flickerkit lowered her head and stared at the ground moodily. She'd been so close.

Specklestar leapt down from the Highrock. "Is something wrong?"

Smallfeather paused, brushing his tail down Flickerkit's spine. "No," he meowed after a moment. "Carry on, Specklestar." He dipped his head respectfully.

Flickerkit lifted her head, her heart swelling.

"Good," Specklestar said levelly, giving the three kits a small smile. "Flickerkit, Hawkkit, and Creekkit, you have reached the age of six moons…"

Flickerkit hardly listened to what the leader was saying, she was so excited. She struggled to swallow down all the excitement and keep her face serious and her tail still.

"Flickerkit. Come forward." Specklestar locked eyes with the young tabby. The kit padded forward, tail held high. "From this day forward, and until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Flickerpaw. Your mentor will be Sparrowstorm."

The old she-cat stood, stretching out her sand-colored limbs, and padded forward with a kindly smile on her face. She gently touched her nose to Flickerpaw's, purring, her green eyes glimmering. Flickerpaw couldn't hold back her own warm, eager purr as she touched noses with her new mentor, looking straight into those eyes—

A violent shudder wracked Flickerpaw's body. She gasped, twitching and shivering, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

 _For a second all she saw was darkness. Then she saw eyes, green and glimmering, set in a face of sand-colored fur streaked with wet, gleaming scarlet and torn out in patches. "Flickerpaw," a hoarse whisper echoed in her ears. And then the green eyes went glassy and dull._


	3. After the Vision, Part 1

Flickerpaw's eyes snapped open, and she gasped in terror, quivering from nose to tail. She looked around, wide-eyed and confused, trying to figure out what was going on, where she was. She slowly realized that she was lying in the medicine cat's den. Smallfeather was crouched over her, looking harried.

"Smallfeather?" she gasped.

"Sh, it's alright," he soothed, placing a paw on her flank. "You had a fit. You passed out."

"Oh," she said, trying to steady her heartbeat. _It was just a dream. Only a dream._

Smallfeather's tail drooped. "Jaggedfern is furious," he murmured. "She blames me for not checking you well enough." The look in his eyes told Flickerpaw that he blamed himself, too. "She says you never should have been made an apprentice today."

Flickerpaw felt a lurch in her gut. They couldn't take this away from her now. They couldn't!

"But the ceremony's over. There's nothing she can do." Smallfeather shook his head.

Flickerpaw felt relief wash over her. She looked up at Smallfeather. He looked so worried.

"I'm okay," she said softly. "May I join Hawkpaw and Creekpaw in the apprentices' den?"

Smallfeather looked up. "Of course," he said with a small smile. As she passed him to exit the den. He gave her an affectionate lick between the ears. "Remember, if you ever need anything, I'll be here."

She nodded, a fake smile plastered across her face. Before today, she would've gone to Smallfeather for any and every trouble she had.

But she was not going to tell him about her dream.

…

Creekpaw and Hawkpaw were waiting for her in the apprentices' den. "Flickerpaw!" Hawkpaw mewed, rushing up to her sister. "I'm so glad you're okay. We were worried!"

"Not a lot," grumbled Creekpaw. "Just a little."

"Oh, shut it, mousebrain," laughed Hawkpaw, flicking Creekpaw with her tail. "You were just as worried as me!"

The other apprentices had woken up at their conversation and were padding over.

"Hey, you're Flickerpaw," yawned Acornpaw. "That one who fainted."

Flickerpaw's ears burned. She looked down at her paws.

"She didn't faint," Hawkpaw said hotly. "She's sick, actually."

"Yeah?" snorted Smokepaw. "I heard she's _always_ sick."

"Shut up!" Hawkpaw growled.

Creekpaw looked away, scuffing the floor of the apprentices' den with his paw.

"Oh, quiet, you're making such a racket!" snapped Cherrypaw. "Toms," she muttered, rolling her eyes. She cast a teasing smile at Hawkpaw. "And to think you have one for a brother!"

Hawkpaw let out a purr. "They're such a pain, aren't they?" She brushed Flickerpaw's side with her tail, hinting for her to join the conversation.

"Actually, I like Creekpaw," said Flickerpaw honestly. "Most of the time."

Cherrypaw rolled her eyes. "Sure." She turned back to Hawkpaw. "Wanna pull your nest near mine?" she asked eagerly. "Your brother can have the one over by the _toms."_ She giggled.

"Okay," Hawkpaw agreed, shooting Flickerpaw a _Really?_ look, and following Cherrypaw deeper into the den.

Flickerpaw peered after them. "Um, could I come too?" she called softly, but neither of them answered her. Her tail drooped. "I'm…I'm going to go ask Sparrowstorm if we can go look around the territory…"

She waited for Hawkpaw to say, "I am _so_ coming!" or for Creekpaw to eagerly bound over and yell, "Last one to the camp entrance is a crowfood!" Or for someone to say _something._

No one did.

"That's okay," she said slowly, "I'll go by myself I guess." Creekpaw was talking with Acornpaw and Smokepaw. Cherrypaw and Hawkpaw had dragged their nests together and were giggling and whispering.

Flickerpaw turned and headed to the warriors' den.

A tiny bundle of fluff rolled out of the nursery and fastened his tiny claws on Flickerpaw's tail. He squeaked, and she offered him a small smile. "Hi there."

With a squeak of terror, he scampered back into the nursery to rejoin his littermates. Flickerpaw sighed. "Never mind," she mumbled, and continued on to the warriors' den. "Sparrowstorm?"

After a few moments, the older warrior came out, stretching. "Hello Flickerpaw," she purred. "How can I help you?"

"I thought…maybe…" Flickerpaw stumbled over her words, looking down at her paws. She'd always been shy, but usually Hawkpaw was around to balance her out and ask the questions that needed to be asked.

But Sparrowstorm sat down and waited patiently.

"I wondered if you could take me out to see the territory," Flickerpaw managed finally.

"Certainly," Sparrowstorm said warmly, getting to her feet. "And I'll tell you what. I can teach you a couple of hunting tricks along the way—maybe you'll be able to have your first catch before your siblings!" She winked.

Flickerpaw's heart swelled. "That sounds great," she mewed shyly. "Okay."

So they headed to the entrance of camp side-by-side.


End file.
